


The Birth

by FlameWolf



Series: My Strange Romance [13]
Category: Marilyn Manson (Band)
Genre: F/M, Pregnancy, graphic birth, orgasmic birth, slight exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 09:20:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11780133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlameWolf/pseuds/FlameWolf
Summary: Just as the title says.  The arrival of our couple's bundle of joy.  Enjoy~





	The Birth

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not know and have never met Marilyn Manson or any members from his band. This is a work of fiction, just for fun and no profit will be made from it.
> 
> Author’s Note: The birth of the baby. Of course, it won’t be as simple as that. |3

Cherise moaned softly while Jeordie gently sponged off her sweaty brow, fierce eyes glaring at a pacing Ginger.  “He’s stuck in traffic but he’s on his way and angry as a bear.  I suggest we all clear out once he calls me back.  He doesn’t want anyone near her when he gets here,” the drummer informed, a worried expression on his acne scarred face.

“Like Hell we’re just gonna leave a woman in labor,” Pogo snarled, wincing as the poor woman squeezed his hand.

“I don’t like it anymore than you do but its what he wants.  Besides, he only wants us gone once he’s in the driveway.  At least he let us call a midwife, just in case things went awry,” the percussionist grumbled, running a shaky hand through his bleach blonde hair.

“Not that he’d let the woman in here anyway.  Even now, Fiver’s keeping her downstairs,” Gacy hissed, getting a solemn nod from Tim.

Cherise simply rolled her blue eyes, giggling painfully as her contraction ebbed.  “Kinda glad she isn’t in here.  I only want my family here,” she assured, giving the men gathered around her bed a small smile.  When her labor had started early this morning, she had honestly been in denial.  She’d hidden it as long as she could, only Jeordie catching on as soon as he saw her.  Yet, he had played along; at least until she had started showing actual signs of discomfort.  The moment she’d winced, he’d whisked her upstairs; the rest of the peanut gallery close behind.

Soon, an argument had ensued of who should call Manson while Jeordie and Tim worked on making sure she was comfortable.  After a few moments, Ginger had chosen the shortest stick, reluctantly calling the singer while John 5 practically ran out of the room.  The last thing the prissy male wanted was to be near something as messy as birth.  “Glad you see us like.  Just wish Manson hadn’t gone out to record for that album.  Its like he didn’t care that you could pop at any time,” the keyboardist groused from beside her, drawing her back to the present.

“I insisted that he go though.  He was driving me crazy!  He was following me like a little shadow and I needed a bit of space, if only for five minutes,” Cherise explained, a shameful expression on her pale face.  Then her hands were on the hardened swell of her stomach, a faint moan leaving her as another wave rolled over her.  The contractions were getting closer together rapidly, making her a bit nervous that her husband simply wouldn’t make it.

“Damn, its only been three minutes since the last one.  Where did he say he was?” Twiggy asked curtly as he offered her a spoonful of ice chips.

“On the highway.  He trapped at the turn off by a massive traffic jam,” came a quiet response as the percussionist paced while looking at the device in his hand.

“Well, at least he doesn’t have much further to go after that.  I can bet he’ll be here in a few moments flat.  Just hope baby here is willing to wait that long,” the painter joked, puffing through the contraction as she watched the band with faint amusement.  Her labor was obviously something none of them were used to dealing with.  Yet, they were willing to stay with her just to make sure she was safe.

Suddenly, a ringtone emanated from the phone in Ginger’s hand; draining the small amount of humor in the room in an instant.  “Alright, that’s our cue Gacy,” Jeordie murmured, sounding no more pleased than the keyboardist looked.

“How in Hell can you expect me to leave her alone for even a second?!  She’s like a baby sister to me and she needs us!” snarled the normally hyper musician, a strangely furious expression on his face.  As the switch guitarist opened his mouth to say something, Tim was grabbing Pogo’s arm; dragging the mohawked man to his feet.

“Don’t make it any harder, just come.  Brian will make sure she’s safe,” the bassist murmured, his accented voice carefully neutral as he lead the fuming artist to the door.  Ginger soon followed, assuring his boss that room would be clear.  This left Twiggy alone with the panting woman.

“I wish I could be here with ya honey but you’ll do just fine.  All of us will be right downstairs if you need us,” he assured in a soft voice, placing a kiss to her sweaty forehead before he also left the room.

Thankfully, she only had a handful of minutes on her own; Manson rushing in before she even had time to feel panic.  Panting, the taller singer clutched his side with wide, mismatched eyes.  “I’m here.  Y-you okay?  How close together are the pains?” he gasped out, rubbing away a stitch in his side.

“Only a few minutes apart.  Water hasn’t broken yet so you made it just in time,” she informed, wincing as a fresh wave crashed over her prone body.

“Good.  I was afraid I’d be too late,” he murmured, removing his clothes and ignoring the fact that he left the door to the bedroom wide open.

As soon as he was naked, he had her on her feet; helping her pace as she breathed through her contraction.  “Sorry about leaving you alone like that but...  I just can’t stand the thought of anyone but me seeing you give birth to our child,” growled in her ear as the performer helped her get into a squat.

“You wouldn’t have left at all if I hadn’t browbeat you into it so we’re even,” Cherise pointed out, huffing out a low moan as she felt the baby drop inside her.

“Breathe through it hun.  I know it hurts,” soothed his familiar voice, helping her relax despite the anxiety beginning to build up within her.

This was her first child and she would be giving birth to it naturally.  Of course she was a bit nervous.  Still, having Manson here and knowing what they had planned helped set her at ease.  Sure enough, she could feel her lover removing her clothes; her pants and underwear going first.  Next came her shirt, rough skinned hands dancing across her sensitive breasts.  Fingertips plucked at swollen nipples as the latest pain ebbed away, the feeling of pressure in her lower body leaving her a bit breathless.  “I have to check your dilation.  If you’re ready to push, I may have to manually break your amniotic sac,” informed a deep rumble to her right as her nipples received a gentle pinch.

“Okay... I trust you,” she whispered, leaning into him as he helped her get to her feet.  A soft kiss landed on her cheek as one of his hands left her breasts to travel down to her womanhood.  Careful digits plyed her puffy labia just before they prodded her hot, quivering hole.

“Shhh,” hissed a gruff vocalization as she whimpered in discomfort, his fingers feeling inside her widening passage.

“You’re almost ready,” Manson assured, removing the appendages inside her before he was leaving her.

Leaning on the wall as she felt her back and belly tighten once more, the painter felt a slight feeling of anticipation blooming inside her.  They had discussed everything long before this day had come, Manson wanting to be sure she was okay with everything he wanted to do.  As it turned out, she was pretty much game for anything as long as it distracted her from labor.  So, she simply allowed him to press a small vibrator between her puffy lips; whimpering as a gentle buzzing began.  It almost felt good, despite what her body was currently going through.  “Brian,” she breathed, nuzzling his cheek as he wrapped his free arm around her.

“Right here babe,” husked his unsteady voice as the vibration increased.  He sounded almost as nervous as she felt but was hiding it exceedingly well.

Soon she was getting into another squat, fighting to keep her breathing even as the pressure inside her increased.  Open mouthed kisses landed on the back of her neck as her thighs shuddered, the hand holding the vibrator pressing it harder against her sensitive button.  Suddenly, fluid poured onto the carpeted floor with a muffled splash, Cherise blushing heavily as she realized just what had happened.  Whimpering, she hid her burning face in his neck; panting softly as she tried to focus on the vibrator against her clit.  “Won’t be long now,” purred a raspy baritone, making her shudder slightly as the voice made her feel instinctual arousal.

Then she was straightening, moaning quietly as she felt her baby sitting low in her body.  She could feel it moving downward as the performer forced her to walk, murmuring encouraging words in her ear every time she seemed close to stopping.  “Gotta keep moving sweetie.  It helps the baby move down,” he urged, having long removed the vibrator to help support her weight.  The laboring woman could only nod weakly, hissing as she went into another squat; her hips moving restlessly as the infant moved down.

Thankfully, the vibrator came back; settling against her pearl as she breathed through the extreme urge to push.  Pushing now would only increase the amount of work she put in.  It was best that she waited until she began to crown, a nearly impossible task.  The pressure and urge were nearly undeniable.  It was only the distraction that Manson provided that kept her grounded, his low voice doing wonders to keep her focused.  It also helped that she was so reactive to just his tone from years of masturbating to his music.  “Almost there babe.  Are you ready to sit?” husked the performer, the slight buzz of the toy easily ignored while everything else was going on.

Whimpering, Cherise could only nod; her blonde bangs hanging slightly in her face as she found herself scooped up in a pair of tattooed arms.  A pair of lips pressed to her temple as she was carried to the bed they shared, her arms wrapping around his neck as she kept her breathing slow and even.  “Scared...,” she whispered in a small voice as he set her down on the edge, reluctant to release him as he pulled back.  Removing one of the hands on his neck to kiss her knuckles, he gave her a smile as his mismatched eyes met hers carefully.

“You have every right to be but I’m right here.  And... if we need help, there is a midwife just downstairs.  I’m not about to let anything happen to the woman I love,” assured his gruff voice as she moved her hands to grip the blanket under her naked ass.

Giving her lips a chaste but loving kiss, Manson knelt before her; placing himself right between her shuddering thighs.  Careful fingers spread her open, feeling her entrance as she did her best not to tense or pull back.  To say it was uncomfortable would be an understatement but she endured it.  Thankfully, it didn’t last too long; the singer nodding as he moved his hands away.  “Next contraction you should be ready to push,” he informed, tossing away the vibrator.  With how much pain she was about to be in, he knew she would need something more.  So, with a low, gruff noise, he began to gently manipulate her clit with his fingertips.

He was rewarded with low moan, his wife tilting her head back as she seemed to relax a little.  All too soon, another contraction was overwhelming her; a desperate noise escaping her as she felt the child’s head begin to spread her open.  Almost helplessly, she began to push; gritting her teeth when she felt a slight burn.  Rumbling deep in his throat, Manson leaned over her to take a milk laden breast in his eager mouth; sucking hungrily as she began to lactate.  Winding fingers in his thick hair, she arched up into his eager maw; feeling their child slowly enter the world.

She could feel the forehead gradually sliding free, followed by the eyes, nose and the chin.  Once the entire head was free, Manson was holding it in place; continuing to feed at her breast as she took a small break between pains.  She could feel the end rapidly approaching, sparks of lust winding around the pain she felt.  The performer suckling from her released her flesh to give her lips a heated kiss, only breaking the liplock when she began to push again.  With an unreadable expression, the ‘Antichrist Superstar’ watched her expel their baby.  Ever so carefully, he pulled while she pushed; helping the infant’s passage.

A low yell came out of her as she felt the shoulders begin to come, hands tearing at the blankets under her as everything in her body focused on the agony.  It was unlike anything she felt before, the strokes on her clit from her lover doing little to dull the sensations.  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, both limbs passed out of her.  The relief was so great, she collapsed backwards with a quiet groan; closing her eyes as she did her best to gather her strength for the last stretch.  Gritting her teeth, she gave it her all when the next spasm came.  “Here it comes,” husked a roughened voice as she felt something slide free amongst a final gush of fluids.

Within seconds, a healthy scream filled the room; signaling the midwife below to come up.  “A little girl,” the infamous rocker cooed, wrapping the wailing bundle into a soft towel.  It was at this point a wizened woman entered, heading to the panting artist’s side to check for any signs of hemorrhaging.

“Maeve,” she blurted, wincing as a new pain forced her to push out the afterbirth.

“Perfect,” the proud superstar whispered, crawling on the bed to cuddle with his wife while their newborn quieted and began to look around her world with wide, blue eyes.


End file.
